


The Road to Prince Manor

by Bevan



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Fanon, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-08-10 01:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7825111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bevan/pseuds/Bevan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-war; Snape survives and thrives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pure fanon.

Lucius paced in front of his desk, drumming his new wand softly against his thigh as he walked. “I’d like your permission, Severus, to have my solicitor contact the Prince family solicitor about having you rehabilitated into the family.”

“Really, Lucius, what’s the point? I don’t need the money. And the name no longer makes a difference to me.” The etched line between Severus’ brows deepened slightly as he watched his friend continue to pace. He knew Lucius, once he seized upon an idea, did not let go easily.

“Perhaps you no longer need the Prince family. But they need an heir. Otherwise, the Ministry, upon the death of the last Prince, takes 40% of the entire and considerable estate, and the rest goes to various charities, most of which will use the bulk of the estate for their own expenses and perks.” Lucius glanced over at Severus to read his receptiveness. “Believe me, I know.”

“In other words, all the Princes have built over all their generations will be lost, and you want me to preserve their holdings for our mutual benefit.” Severus returned Lucius’ gaze. “N'est-ce pas?” he inquired softly.

“Would you rather your family heritage go to waste?” Lucius asked impatiently. “It is yours by right, you know. Even back when my father married my mother, and your mother was entering Hogwarts, she was the last young scion of the line, and her parents were the last to produce a child. My father said that they were once a numerous and powerful family, related to the Howards, the Gaunts, the Blacks, the Malfoys,… and everyone of note really. But they dropped out of politics after the passing of the Statute of Secrecy, which they opposed, and became more insular. They devoted their attentions to art, philosophy, esoteric magic and science too, it’s rumored, and generally ceased to have much influence. They retained their lands and wealth, but generally eschewed pureblood society’s marriage game and child rearing. So by my father’s time, the family was a collection of powerful, but quite aged witches and wizards, with only one couple of breeding age and one child to their name.” Lucius stopped to reflect, trying to recall the old rumors and tales he had heard muttered by his father and his circle back when he was a child.

Severus interjected, “My mother said she was disowned and stricken from her pureblood family tree for running away to marry a muggle, and a working class one at that. So if the family opposed the Statute, was it for a different reason than the Malfoys? Didn’t you tell me that the Malfoys tended to marry wealthy and capable muggles nearly as often as magical folk, to keep the line strong?”

“So we did,” Lucius agreed. “And we still seek half bloods, muggle born, and Veela when we can for that same reason. Though it has not been politic to marry actual muggles,” he condescended. “My mother was Veela, as you know. The Princes, too, were wont to marry those whose merit would strengthen the line, whether magical or not. After the Statute, the branches of the family that chose to stay in the wizarding world followed the Malfoy pattern, and were considered pureblood. Though I doubt that any family actually is, even the Blacks. And look what happened there. Bella and your furry nemesis Sirius were loonier than any Lovegood. And Draco and Theodore are the last of the line, neither carrying the Black name.” Lucius looked at Severus frankly. “Don’t you want to save your family line from that fate?”

“Why? What did they ever do for me?" Severus shot back, just as frankly.

Lucius merely rolled his eyes. "Don’t dwell on what they didn’t do for you in the past. Think of what they could do for you now. You’re a war hero, exonerated and extolled by no less a personage than the Savior of the Wizarding World: you’re the Savior’s Savior, by his own admission. They would love to have you in the family as their heir.” Lucius gestured eloquently towards Severus, “Use that to your own advantage for once. Haven’t you sacrificed enough for others?”


	2. On the Road to Rehab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus takes the plunge, and decides to pursue the title of Prince once more, no longer a bullied half-blood student, but a renowned war hero with a legendary past and a future still in the making.
> 
> **********************************************************************************************************

     Severus considered the possibilities that following Lucius' advice to seek recognition as the Prince heir apparent might open up for him. He could build the research lab of his dreams, and hide it away on a secluded estate. He could augment the Hogwarts' endowment for Slytherins in need, so no one of his House would need to need to suffer from deprivation or feelings of inferiority due to poverty. He could even extend the largesse to all the Houses, and let all students start on the same footing in economic terms, at least. There was a lot he could do. And little he would have to bear in return, just the many unsolicited solicitations of his wealth that might be expected. But only if they could get to him. Those few in the know whispered that he was the most powerful wizard living. Once he set wards on his estate, no one could enter without his express permission. 

     He languidly raised a hand to get Lucius' attention. Lucius quirked an eyebrow in inquiry. "Do it," Severus pronounced. "Send your solicitor."

     "Excellent choice!" Lucius exclaimed, clapping his hands on Severus' shoulders. "You'll have the family's seats in the Wizengamot, and more authority than practically anyone but the Minister himself."

      "And so what will you want in return for this little boon of your aid in facilitating my rise to power, Luci?"

      Lucius tried, unsuccessfully, to feign innocence, but it amused Severus to watch him make the attempt. Any innocence he could recall was so far back in his past as to be almost mythical. Lucius shrugged, only a little sheepishly. "Actually, I don't think you will find it that much of a trial." Lucius sat down heavily and his face lost some of its beaming enthusiasm. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Severus noticed that that chin was beginning to sport a trace of rough stubble. Since his difficulties at the end of the last war, Lucius had tended to not always keep up his appearance as carefully as before. These days, often as not, he was a slightly rumpled peacock, his preening less fastidious than it once was. Other things, usually better things, occupied him these days.

    Lucius was silent and abstracted for a moment. Then he began slowly, "You know how Narcissa loves children...." Severus nodded. "Well, she wants another - a daughter, now that a child can be raised without the Dark Lord's interference and perhaps a son to carry the Black name which died with that crazy Grim." He paused again, seeming to choose his words carefully. "I dare not try to give her one, I think. Too many curses were put upon me by the Dark Lord and our beloved dark brethren for it to be safe for me to father a child. But you were spared - that at least. And I would be proud and pleased to have you as surrogate father of my little heiress and second heir: the Black-Malfoys."

    Severus eyes widened in surprise. He had not expected anything like this. "And what does Narcissa think of this idea? I am no pampered pureblood such as the Black line would seek."

   "Surely you know Narcissa better than that. She is no idiot. She knows merit and power when she sees it. And we would not be having this conversation if she had not already approved."

    "You've already discussed this?" Severus fairly shouted. "Bartering my... services... in return for a good word from your solicitor?"

    "Well, you are certainly free to hire a solicitor of your own - I would suggest a top tier partner from a white shoe firm if you wish him ...or her to even get past the Prince gate. And then we can pretend we never had this conversation . And I will ask Narcissa for her secondary choice."

     "She chose me?" That had gotten Severus' attention.  "To be the father of the Black-Malfoys?"

     "Black Malfoys in more ways than one," Lucius mused, his mouth quirking up at the corners as he pictured the little additions to his family with the shining black hair and eyes that he has always so much admired in his Severus. "And as a member of the Malfoy family, which you are as my long-time ...client since your first year in school, it is perfectly acceptable within old wizarding tradition for you to serve the family in this capacity. No one can validly question our choice."

     Lucius waited, sizing up Severus' reaction to all of this, absorbing the little gestures and fleeting changes of expression in his eyes and face that were the only evidence of his processing of this turn of events, anticipating that his old friend, client, and lover would come around and say yes.

 

 

 

 


	3. Begin the Begetting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus decides to undertake two of Lucius schemes, and finds them not nearly so onerous as the schemes of bygone years.

Dear Mr. Malfoy:

Regarding your solicitor’s query, the Prince family is in need of an heir apparent. Yet how do I know that this man is a true Prince? I and the two remaining of our line would need to meet him. Further, he would need to agree to marry suitably and produce further members of our line to carry on after him. If that can be done, then let our solicitors arrange a meeting. It will have to be here.

Sincerely,  
Gaius Publius Prince

Lucius passed the note that his solicitor had received in response to his overture to the Prince family to Severus to read. When Severus had finished perusing the brief letter, Lucius asked him, “Well? Do you think you can do it? A Malfoy niece or grandniece as your bride is still on offer. My sisters and their families adore you. They would be glad to bind you further into the family.”

The corner of Severus’ mouth quirked. “You know how I admire the Malfoy beauty. However, I would like to enjoy my marriage for 5 or 10 years before having to devote my energies to raising a brood of small Severii. I am still relatively young by wizarding standards, so there is time. Do you think he would object to that caveat? How old are these 3 remaining Princes anyway?”

“276, 298, and 311, respectively. And technically, one is an elder Princess.”

“We’re rather a long-lived family then?”

“You can be. The more powerful the witch or wizard, the longer the potential lifespan. It’s just that the more powerful ones tend to get themselves into dangerous predicaments more often than not, shortening their spans. Look at the Dark Lord: for all his precautions against death, he didn’t even reach the average muggle life expectancy.”

Severus looked thoughtful. “And he eschewed some of the more likely routes to long life, for instance, the blood of a vampire, in favor of the most dubious and questionable route one can imagine. Slicing up one’s soul, and then depositing the shards into finite, rather easily destroyed objects, even quite mortal living beings. For all his vaunted intellect, what in Merlin’s name was he thinking?”

Lucius just shook his head. He had never had the slightest clue. The Dark Lord and his plans still seemed opaque to him. He just hoped that he was well and truly gone for good, that there weren’t more remnants of his being waiting to take form and torment them all further. He still did not dare think it too loudly: good riddance! His debt of gratitude to Severus, that Potter enigma, and yes, even Dumbledore, could never be repaid. 

After a moment’s pause in these unpleasant musings, Lucius returned to the topic at hand. “Shall I have our solicitor give him a “yes” then, and set up a meeting?”

Severus nodded. “Proceed. Let’s see what comes of it.”

“Good!” Lucius nodded vigorously in enthusiasm, his sleek, platinum mane tossing and catching the light to good effect. “I’ll notify the solicitor at once.”

And indeed he did, dashing off a quick note on the heavy, linen Malfoy stationery with the embossed crest, then tossing it into the fireplace along with a bit of floo powder and a muttered address. Lucius was never one to dawdle when there were connections to be made, Severus reflected.

“Now back to the other matter we were discussing,” Lucius proclaimed.

“What other matter?” Severus rejoined sharply, just an edge of exasperation to his tone. 

“The matter of the Black-Malfoys,” Lucius reminded.

Severus sighed. “Have you already calendared the due date?” he asked ironically.

Lucius just looked at him impatiently. “Of course not. Narcissa is still young for a witch, but these things must be arranged, and there is no sense in letting more time pass than necessary. We were thinking that if she could conceive by the end of summer, the child could have a Spring birthday. Generally speaking, Spring babies have such pleasant and mild dispositions.”

“I question your thought that the combination of myself and a Black is likely to produce mild offspring. We are hardly the stuff of which Hufflepuffs are made.”

“All the more reason to try for a Spring child.”

Severus sighed again. “Fine. Let me know the time and place.”

Lucius smirked. “Of course,” he said with some hauteur. “We couldn’t do it without you.” 

Severus nodded his goodbye and made his exit before Lucius could come up with any other inconvenient schemes, taking the time to pour himself another glass of Lucius’ expensive cognac as he passed the marble-topped bar.  
*****************************  
On the appointed day and time, Lucius escorted a slightly edgy Severus through the doors of the Manor. “Dinner has been prepared and set, and the Master suite has been prepared for the two of you.” Lucius steered them to a halt in the hallway near the entrance to the more intimate of the Malfoy dining rooms. He looked Severus carefully up and down, noting the trace of nervousness in his demeanor. “Are you all right? Is there something further I can get for you; do you need anything?”

“No,” Severus responded. I was simply wondering if this was how the prize studs felt when they were brought to the estate to be introduced to your finely bred mares and heifers.”

Lucius frowned in disapproval. “You could always ask. You’re the legilimens,” he opined with some sarcasm. He brushed back a stray strand of Severus’ hair, already escaping from the elaborate hairstyle Lucius had designed, and tugged at the hem of his waistcoat to smooth out incipient wrinkles, then cocked his head slightly to inspect his handiwork. “Are you ready?” he asked.

Severus nodded in acquiescence. No need to delay the inevitable.

Lucius took his elbow, escorted him into the dining room, and bowed to Narcissa, already seated at the table, then quietly withdrew.

Severus bowed in turn. “Narcissa, well met.”

“Please sit, Severus. No need to be so formal, especially considering the evening’s goal.” Humor lit her eyes as she smiled and gestured to him to take a seat.

Severus took the chair across from her at the small dining table, and responded to her smile with a quirk of his lips. He noticed that the table was laid with the family’s finest china in peacock blue, white, and gold, elaborately cut crystal stemware, and golden tableware. They were expecting a lot from this evening. Expecting perhaps being the operative word. 

The elves began to serve the dinner, which was very fine, but not too heavy, and accompanied by only very minor amounts of alcohol. Clean nutrition and energy were clearly the thoughts behind this meal. 

Severus and Narcissa found common ground in snide humor and intellectual wordplay and relaxed in each other’s company. Having been acquainted since they were 11 and 15 years of age, and having shared many Malfoy family events and gatherings, not to mention having both been subjected to not a few of Lucius’ wild schemes and ideas, they both found that they could approach the next stage of the evening without awkwardness.

Severus covered with his own fingers the small, delicate hand which rested on his arm near the crook of his elbow. They quietly paced down the softly carpeted hall towards the Master Suite. As they neared, the French doors opened inward of their own accord. Severus guided his lady within, and shut the doors again behind them. His black eyes glinted with wry humor as he took in the décor: flowering jasmine and stephanotis twined up the posts of the four-poster bed and draped over the canopy, releasing a sweet, sensual scent throughout the room. He inhaled. Stephanotis always reminded him of warm, breezy nights on the Mediterranean, trips he had shared with the Malfoys and with Dumbledore as well. 

Pristine silver-edged white sheets contrasted with a heavy comforter and pillow coverings of deep emerald silk velvet. Tiny fairy lights danced and sparkled overhead. Sensual classical music sounded softly throughout the space. White peacocks slumbered on perches in the corners of the room, their luxuriant feathers making waterfalls of white fluff. A black peacock, not yet asleep, surveyed the room with sharp eyes, the fairy lights glinting off its glossy, iridescent plumage. Severus quirked an eyebrow. “Lucius outdid himself.” 

Narcissa laughed. “You know how he is. He couldn’t help himself. And I couldn’t deny him. He had such fun making this into the perfect bower for us.” 

“I appreciate the effort,” Severus acknowledged. And he did. The stephanotis particularly. Lucius had remembered how scent was the keystone of memory for him. “Shall we begin?”  
*****************************  
Shortly afterwards, emerging refreshed and in an elegant silk nightrobe in ancient Grecian style, Severus went and sat on the edge of the bed to wait. He fingered the deep pile of the dark emerald velvet. It was as soft as down or chinchilla fur. His hand luxuriated in its depths.

A whisper of sound made him look up. Narcissa had entered the room, similarly attired in a Grecian style gown. She was breathtaking. Lucius had been right; Severus would find this duty very light indeed. He reached out, took her hand, kissed it gently; then pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist. He drew her lightly into his embrace; no use wasting time. Narcissa responded. Despite her delicate appearance, she had never been a shrinking violet. This was the woman who had faced down the Dark Lord with a bold lie at the crux of battle. The thought of that moment, which he wished he had seen, brought Severus’ manhood to fullness. As he lengthened and swelled, he pulled back the soft green folds of the velvet bedcover, drawing her under into his embrace. She was passionate and responsive, and he was soon caressing her own velvet folds, as she stroked the velvet covering of his rod. She opened to welcome him, whispering, “Remember, we make a girl child tonight.”

Severus nodded, a bit jerkily. At this point, he would have willingly made a baby manticore or anything else she had asked of him. There was no denying: the Black women were dangerous. Severus tried to apply all the arts of love that Lucius had taught him, to draw out her pleasure, but his movements were no longer under his complete control. Together they wrought a powerful, surging rhythm, and having reached its apogee, they climaxed together in a shuddering earthquake that threatened to wrench his joints apart.

Narcissa fell away from him slowly after their exertions, a pleased smile caressing her lips. She glowed, both sultry and sweet. He could feel, as she must, the warm energy of a new life taken root in her core. Severus wafted a careful cleaning spell across them both and their bed.

“Is it a girl child?” Severus asked softly.

“I can’t tell,” Narcissa admitted. “With Draco, I knew at once that he was boy; this time I can’t tell. So maybe it is a girl. They are more discreet generally.”

Severus lifted the corners of his mouth in a quiet smile. “Lucius will be pleased.” 

Narcissa nodded, and rolled into his embrace, where they were both almost instantly asleep.


	4. Happy Birth Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius ensures that Severus' birthday is a particularly good one in thanks for the upcoming Black-Malfoy births they are expecting in the Spring.

Narcissa had her feet up on the sumptuous leather ottoman. Lucius solicitously tucked the velvet blanket around her legs before settling the dessert tray over her swelling form. He removed the covers of the dishes and handed them to one of the house elves, remarking, “The elves have prepared it exactly as you ordered: treacle tart with a side of caramel sauce.” He could not help the curl of distaste that flitted over his mouth as he regarded the sticky mess. “You’ve never liked treacle before,” he mentioned. “In fact, I distinctly remember you saying you loathed the dish. At Hogwarts, you used to say that it was offensive that they even served such a plebian dessert at the Slytherin table.”

“I’ve never been pregnant with twins before,” Narcissa retorted with a lively spark in her eyes. “Next time, perhaps I will ask that it be topped with a pickle or two.”

Lucius winced at the thought. Severus smirked.

“Now go take Severus for his birthday dinner. Enjoy yourselves. Don’t hurry back.”

Lucius placed his hand at the small of Severus’ back, and steered him out of the room before his lately mercurial wife could change her mind. He guided Severus into his small private library, poured them each a tumbler of their favored cognac, and waved him towards a large package elaborately wrapped in paper and gilt-edged ribbons of peacock hues. 

Severus took a moment to admire the ornate wrapping, one eyebrow rising as he noted sardonically, “Just the wrapping far exceeds a sensible budget. Perhaps the cost could have been better spent elsewhere. You do have two demanding little Malfoys on the way.”

“Nonsense.” Lucius dismissed his comment with a languid wave of his hand. “It was nothing. In any event, I can never adequately thank you for the precious gift you have given us. Among all the other wonderful things you have done for us in the past. Not since the time of Edward IV has a Malfoy patriarch been blessed with a second son.” Lucius fairly glowed with pleasure. “Narcissa and I have agreed to christen him ‘Black-Malfoy.’ He will serve to continue the Black name and heritage as Draco will the Malfoys’. I suspect he will even look the part; I have always wanted to see how your vivid black eyes and hair would combine with blonde and blue. And Narcissa has the little daughter she wanted too. We could not be more pleased.” He draped his arm around Severus’ waist and gave him a quick hug. 

“Now open it,” he ordered, gesturing peremptorily at the package.

Severus’ mouth quirked up at the corners. Now that was the Lucius he knew. 

Severus took a sip of his cognac, then carefully began removing the ribbons and paper, not wanted to damage the artful stuffs. He suspected Lucius had had them custom made. He had a thing for peacocks. Severus suspected that the affinity sprang from Lucius’ avian Veela heritage. They both tended to preen rather more than necessary. Of course, Lucius and his peacocks both had the beauty to justify the preening.

The last of the paper fell away to reveal a fine silver filigree cabinet. As he delicately stroked the fine surface of the cabinet, his touch caused its various compartments to open one by one. In the first was a cauldron of masterfully cut rock crystal worked in the ancient Roman style. In the next was a set of cut crystal flasks and tubes for potion-making. In the third was a carven crystal book stand as for spell books. And in the compartment on the fourth and final side was an exquisite cut crystal decanter, accompanied by two crystal glasses and a bottle of his favorite cognac. It was a nice touch. Lucius had introduced him to that cognac, but he had never bought it for himself, due to the hideous expense. Severus could not even begin to imagine the cost of the entire gift together; it was a stunning expense, of that he had no doubt. His first instinct would have been to decline a gift of such enormous cost. But Lucius would be gravely affronted, and Severus realized that the gift perhaps helped him assuage some of the guilt he still felt over some of what Severus had suffered on the Malfoys’ behalf over the years, from his willing, but ill-advised entry into the Dark Lord’s circle so that his patron and lover Lucius need not suffer in isolation, to his taking of an unbreakable vow to save Draco, to his ignominious delivery to the Dark Lord by none other than Lucius in the Final Battle.

After reflecting upon it, Severus turned to his friend with a simple, but sincere, “Thank you,” and a gentle kiss on the lips. His black eyes shown soft and warm with gratitude and affection.

Lucius tilted Severus’ chin up with his fingers and drew him into a deeper kiss, molding Severus’ slightly shorter and slimmer frame against his own. They both tasted of fine cognac. “Are you ready for dinner?” he asked softly as his lips worked their way up from an earlobe to a last soft kiss at the temple. “I have reservations in Paris, and a portkey waiting. 

Severus offered his hand. “Lead on.”  
********


	5. A Thoroughly Malfoy Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relaxing in bed after Severus' birthday dinner, he and Lucius discuss the future.  
> ******************************************

Lucius curled around the more slender and slightly shorter Severus, admiring his lean and attenuated build, and bit his ear lightly as Severus again stroked his hand luxuriously through the rich carpet of tightly curled golden hair on Lucius’ torso. “So did this birthday make up for some of your past ones?” Lucius whispered.

“Ummmn,” Severus hummed as he stretched languidly after their morning love-making.

“I will take that as a yes,” Lucius murmured. “My solicitor tells me that you met with Hermokrates Prince and his cousin Euphonia last week. How did that go?”

“Well enough,” Severus replied, unsurprised that Lucius could not keep plans and intrigue out of the bed. “I meet with Gaius next Wednesday. The two Princes I have seen seemed receptive, and their conditions for rehabilitation to the family surprisingly few. They do insist on marriage and children to perpetuate the line, but that only makes sense. And they were pleased to hear that I have already proven fertile, even if the babes will be ascribed to the Malfoy and Black families.” He leaned into Lucius’ caresses as his hands stroked up his thigh. “They approve of a Malfoy bride, by the way. I believe your solicitor gifted them with that bit of information, even though we have barely discussed it recently.”

“I will not insist,” Lucius demurred. “But the offer is there,” he replied as he waved his hand lazily to set music playing in the background. Vivaldi, Severus noted. Lucius was a master at wandless, wordless magic, and had been as far back as Severus could remember – an ability he had been careful to conceal throughout almost his entire adult life. The Dark Lord had not appreciated such talents in his minions. “Are you considering someone else?” Lucius queried mildly.

It took Severus a moment to recall what they were discussing. “Not presently,“ he answered breathily. “You’re distracting me…” Severus gasped as Lucius’ hands began to rove over his rod. Lucius moved one hand to cup his balls, as if weighing them for their potential to produce heirs. He probably was, Severus reflected. 

“Open for me,” Lucius commanded, as his hands moved once again.

Severus was mildly annoyed that his body obeyed almost immediately, as if trained to it, as essentially it had been, when he was a youth and willingly bound as Lucius’ eremenos and ward. Lucius had never been one to observe the strict confines of their contract, but then, neither had he. And he had wanted Lucius far more than Lucius had him, though these days, it was often the other way around. Lucius who was as beautiful and shining as the sun, and twice as hot. Lucius, who despite his controlling nature and sudden bursts of temper, legilimency had shown Severus had a mind and disposition like a sunny meadow full of flowers and small, fuzzy animals. It was a wonder he had survived the Dark Lord. He had never been suitable as a death eater, even if he was a natural as an arrogant lord, demanding of fealty. Lucius, who wasn't particularly attracted to men. Severus had never known him to have another male partner. At least not voluntarily. Some things happened while in the Dark Lord's service that one simply didn't talk about.

Severus’ muscles contracted as he braced himself against Lucius’ powerful but smooth entry. His body then relaxed into the familiar fullness and rhythm. He closed his eyes, letting himself enjoy the energy as their bodies and magic melded together and flowed through them both. The pace of their rhythm increased along with the tempo of the music, until finally they both reached crescendo. Lucius initiated a quick cleaning spell, then lay back, pulling Severus down on top of him.

“Breakfast?” he murmured, bringing one hand up to pull the cord that summoned the house elves.

A tiny elf in a tea towel with the Malfoy crest appeared. “Namby is ready to serve, Master” she squeaked.

“Kindly set out breakfast for two on the terrace,” Lucius ordered.

The elf bowed and popped away. By the time the two men had dragged themselves out of bed, gone quickly through their morning ablutions, and donned dressing gowns, a generous brunch had been laid out on the stone table on the bedroom terrace. “I told Narcissa not to expect us until lunch. A late lunch,” Lucius clarified. 

“She did seem glad to be rid of us last night,” Severus opined.

“As her time draws closer, she seems less inclined to tolerate male company. She was like that when carrying Draco too.”

Severus vaguely recalled that, and how anxious the two parents were over their firstborn. He tucked into his food, letting his mind drift over memories of his past as part of the Malfoy family. Another elf popped in noisily just as he was finishing a tarte aux abricots. 

“Pamby comes from the reception room. The Masters have a visitor.”

Lucius huffed. Not a single morning went by uninterrupted; he had expected that to change now that the Dark War was over. “Who is it?” he demanded.


End file.
